


Beautiful Pain

by carolinka (orphan_account)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/carolinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of how Mario and Marco set the yesterday on fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary inspired by the song "Beautiful Pain" by Eminem.  
> And also, sorry for any grammatical mistakes and you should know that this year I dont have time to keep up with football so if there is any mistakes about players, teams or anything else for that matter, please be tolerant with me and show me my mistakes.  
> Enjoy!

Everyday we stop for a moment and think about the past. It’s usually not remarkable, it’s just the time you had gone to amusement park with your favourite cousin, or that smoking hot guy you saw on your way home in the morning, maybe that one time a teacher’s skirt was stuck in her knickers. We don’t consider these as thinking about our past, just a part of life, as ordinary as greeting your teammates or drinking coffee in the morning. When a time comes in the future when you try to remember about your thoughts about your life, it’s not these. 

But there are also times we think about our mistakes, our choices, our words sceptically and try to find where it went wrong or what we could have done differently. Maybe we’ll find some answers, maybe just more hurt feelings or regretw. But we will never forget these moments because a moment of realisation may change your life forever.

**

Mario closes his eyes, biting down on his lip hard as Ann slowly kneels down before him, leaving faint trails of her presumably expensive red lipstick as she kisses every centimetre of his chest, shimmering with a fine layer of sweat. A sticky feeling follows every kiss, and that extreme false pleasure sounds they use in porn films. Her hand never leaves his almost hard erection, and boy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Even in these inconvenient circumstances, she manages to get him hard, just using her hands.

He opens his eyes to shoot a worried glance at the door but nothing is wrong. She grins at him seductively, flattering her eyelids, lips slightly apart and shining with her saliva. She trails her length with the tip of her tongue, eyes never leaving his and Mario can’t help but think she looks like a cat, ready to strike any moment, and her sharp nails against his thighs only adds to his simile.

He can hear Manuel roaring on the other side of the door and everything is so familiar that his eyes close automatically. Every time he and Marco sneaked out from a team party, their minds clouded with alcohol and even though he hadn’t even had a single drink he can taste the intense taste of tequila on his tongue and for a second he actually thinks it’s Marco whose lips is closing around his erection, it’s his hand on his calf but it doesn’t last long. He doesn’t know if he is pleased that he came to his mind quickly or just plain disappointed that he couldn’t enjoy the brief hallucination a little longer. He takes a deep breath, emptying his mind and giving all his focus to hot wetness around his penis but even though he stopped thinking about him, he can’t seem to enjoy it because she doesn’t know where to pressure or how hard she should suck and...

Mario stops himself. He’s doing it again. It’s absolute foolishness to think about him because it was never serious; they were just best friends fooling around. And he had his sexy girlfriend offering him something many man will seldom have in their lives.  
Ann draws herself back and asks him. “What’s wrong?” Her voice holds a trace of annoyance as she stares at his limp penis. He sighs and stays silent until someone fists the door. “Who’s in there?” It’s Thiago, certainly drunk as his words becomes almost unrecognisable because of his thick accent but Mario takes this as an oppurtinity to escape from this awkward situation and zips his pants.  
“I’m sorry Ann, just the thought that someone might intrude us makes me nervous,” he says, and he can’t look into her eyes because he remembers telling Marco to fuck him in the showers where everyone might find them because the thought turned him on immensely.

But it’s not the same, he thinks. Situation is different.

**

He flops down on his sofa after dropping Ann to her apartment, after many weeks practically living together. She told that she was going to spend some time with her girlfriends tomorrow, and he didn’t even ask who, where or what they were going to do because he actually didn’t give a single fuck and also he would do anything to run away from their uncomfortable silence. 

He turns on the TV and he flips through the channels, and stops when he sees that show with same ten women, and watches it absentmindedly. His phone’s screen lights up occasionally but he doesn’t check them because honestly, he knows they are not from Marco. He is the only person who can cheer him up in his current sour mood but he is looking after his new best friend’s son and Marco takes this very seriously, and he doesn’t seem to mind at all and it all seems so strange to Mario because Marco is the gayest person he has ever known and unless he considers a surrogate mother he will never have his own kid.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles to himself and grabs his phone, dialling his number without trying to remember. It rings two, three times and just when he is about to hang up, Marco takes the call.

“Mario!” he whisper shouts, probably trying not to wake the kid up. 

“Hey,” Mario says, scratching the back of his head, cursing himself for not coming up with an explaining to call him and it actually hurts him a bit, that he has to have a reason to call him now. “How’s the babysitting going?”

Marco doesn’t answer for a few seconds and there are some laughter, he hears a familiar someone curse loudly but he can’t remember who and it leaves him wanting to growl because they get to spend time with Marco and he doesn’t.

He feels this way because Marco is his best friend. There is no other reason.

“Ah, sorry Mario. Kevin just won’t stop talking nonsense,” he says, his voice light with laughter. He hears the background people more clearly now and he feels a smile tug his lips upwards when Kevin starts to tell the story about how he foxed a street dealer. But obviously there is some other people too because someone laughs when Kevin makes an exaggerated sound.

“Seems like it’s not only Kevin,” he says with a chuckle but he sounds insincere even to his own ears. Marco pauses before answering. “Yeah, Erik offered to keep me company today and Kevin couldn’t help but join too.” 

Mario stops himself before he can snort at the boy’s name. “I’m glad they don’t leave you alone,” he says but slaps a hand over his big, stupid, fat mouth immediately. Like he is his only friend and he needs him. Mario knows he talks before he thinks and this is just another example.

“I’m sorry Marco, it’s not what I meant,” he apologises before Marco can react and his body relaxes as he chuckles. “It’s okay, Mario. I know you mean no harm,” he says. “But hey, do you mind if I leave now? They’re calling for me.”

Mario doesn’t hear a thing like that but he just says, “Yeah sure.”

“Thanks Mario, you’re the one. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Marco says and Mario just hums an agreement.

They don’t talk the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not edited AT ALL, so I'm sorry for my mistakes.

Marco doesn’t really like to live. No, he’s not being dramatic, he’s just stating the truth. He isn’t someone who laughs at crying babies on TV, or cries over silly romantic comedy or gets clingy to anyone. Nothing seems really interesting to him, he’s always composed and controlled. Even though he earns more money in a year more than many people would earn all their life, it doesn’t make any difference to him. He lives in his old apartment which his parents rented for him, only difference that it now belonged to him, he sometimes goes to a bar, only difference that he tries to cover his identity now. He sometimes watches something saddening on TV about orphan children and donates money to them, only because he feels guilty for not thinking about these.

He has always been like this. Many thought he was cold, shy, even one of his teachers said he was arrogant. It was until he met Mario. 

Mario had a personality that made everyone turn their heads to see his ridiculous smile and loud laughter. He was shiny, he was bright, he was warm and Marco was awed, truly awed for the first time in his life. 

Mario talked too much. He talked about his breakfast, his summer plans, his family, his routine of pooping, the first time he kissed a girl, his favourite band, that he hated when people insulted his eyebrows. And Marco, who never had any patience or desire to learn about these insignificant things about others, he listened to Mario like his life depended on it. 

And he talked about himself too. Not too much maybe, definitely not as much as Mario but he put something about himself on the table too. And Mario always seemed so interested in him, even though he never said anything particularly different or even weird.

They clicked. They were Adam and Eve, hot chocolate and winter, Britney and Justin, Gerrard and Alonso, orange and green. They were everything. They joked about it, eyeing each other, lip caught between teeth and trying to understand each other’s reactions. 

They blushed, a lot. Every time their faces were too close for just friend, every time they whispered words to each other’s ear, even when it was as stupid as someone’s underwear was stuck between their asscheeks, when their hands brushed accidentally.  
One time after a magnificent win, Marco kissed Mario. Not a drunken kiss, not with alcohol at least and it didn’t turn up to be a disaster. Mario didn’t react at all, he didn’t kiss him back or push him away. He stayed and he slept in Marco’s spare bedroom, just like always. In the morning though, when adrenaline of the win wore off, the kiss hung up on the air, filling all empty space they had between each other, pulling them together. 

Marco ordered him to make the coffee, and he made the breakfast quickly, not meeting his friend’s eyes. Mario couldn’t handle it and kissed him. Marco smiled into the kiss, not caring that he was sort of making it awkward. 

It went on like this. They never talked about it, or mentioned their “friends with benefits” state to anyone because they wouldn’t understand, they’d just think they were cowards, not admitting their feelings and they were afraid of rejection. It didn’t hold a hint of truth of course, they had nothing more than friendship between them, other than intense sexual tension.  
And it was indeed a very intense tension. 

Every time Mario touched him, it felt like the earth just slipped underneath his feet. He could never get enough of him. They could never be close enough and at the same time it felt like they couldn’t get any closer or they’d melt and become one.  
Not that it sounded such a bad idea.

***

Marco is nibbling on his lip absentmindedly, his phone in his hands. It’s been couple of hours since he sat down to call Mario. Since then he watched a horrible action movie, repeating to himself that he’d give him a call like he promised when the exciting part is over. when the movie is over, he decided he’s hungry and then the remembers he hadn’t talked to his mother for two days and he just can’t let his mother wonder if he’s alright, so he calls her. Of course he just can’t not talk to his father.

He knows Mario is waiting for him to call but he can’t bring himself to. Even though he aches to hear his voice, he doesn’t want to hear the voice he so adored once get high with awkwardness between them or he doesn’t want to talk about fucking La Liga and he definitely doesn’t want to hear about fucking oh-so-cool Thiago and his even cooler adventures or fucking Basti or David fucking amazing freakishly funny Alaba. 

He knows Mario likes it in Munich. He made peace with that but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t disturb him anymore. Hell, it still hurts. He hates every time he sees his precious in those hideous red jerseys, he hates it more when Thiago celebrates with him or when Philipp slaps his back appreciatively just like Sebastian used to do.

But it’s still Mario. He’s still his sunshine, he’s still his best friend even he doesn’t know if it’s true for Mario anymore.  
Mario picks up his call real quick. “You didn’t call yesterday,” he says instead of greeting him, his tone accusing. 

Marco scratches the back of his neck, a habit of his, which always sent a shiver through Mario’s spine. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says but he doesn’t offer an excuse.

His honest answers catches Mario off guard, “I’ve waited for you know,” he mutters quietly and Marco can picture him so vividly, his eyes glues on floor, eyebrows furrowed together, tip of his eyes shining with the intensity of emotions.

“I know,” he says, just as quiet as Mario.

Mario sighs, “I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

Marco has to bite his tongue to hold back his harsh words as not being able to see him is all Mario’s fault. “Oh well, you’ll manage,” he says but then clear his throat to soften his words. “You’re a big boy now, aren’t you?”

Mario snorts in annoyance. “This is ridiculous. Where did this come from?”

Marco shrugs, but his shoulder blades are so tense that he almost knocks the phone off his hand. “I don’t know, it seemed to fit you. Now that you have that all admirable life.”

“I don’t have an admirable life,” Mario says, his voice getting colder and harsher.

“Don’t be so sensitive sunny,” Marco drawls and even he hates his tone and he knows it annoys Mario to no end but he continues. “Who could ever deny being you? To play for a team like Bayern, to have a girlfriend like yours and to be the idol and hope of a nation, now Mario?”

“Oh well, I don’t know about the other parts but I know many are pretty envious about the girlfriend part,” he says in a sickening fake worried voice.

“Is this the part you accuse me of liking your girlfriend?”

“Oh Marco, my love,” he says laughing insincerely, “I could never accuse you of wanting my girlfriend. This guy has a memory too, and he remembers how eagely you sucked me off in a dark closet.”

Marco feels like he’s stabbed because this is the first time either of you mentioned anything about their affair and it’s just humiliating to Mario say it like this. “I’m glad for you sunny, because the memories are the only ones you have left,” he says softly, his voice lacking any kind of bitterness and he hangs up.

“Fucking hell, Mario,” he swears loudly and bangs his head against the white wall. “Fuck you,” he mutters this time, his voice so low this time and he barely moved his lips. 

His phone rings but he just closes his eyes, until constant ringing becomes just a background voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share your thoughts! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Mario swears as he presses the call button for the twenty third time, or at least he think it's close to that, he lost the count after fifteen. Just like the times they played one on one with Marco. Well, he was never good at maths.

He's stupid, he is an absolute fool to think that things wouldn't change between them when he practically left him when he left Dortmund. And he was quite sure Marco took it personally. For all he knew, if their roles were reversed he wouldn't forgive him as quick as Marco did.

Maybe he still hadn't. And that was a strong possibility which he always suspected but now his fears were confirmed by Marcos own words.

He was upset with Marco at first, for not calling him, for not giving him a reason for that, for being honest but it was not an excuse for saying those hurtful words which sounded so wrong to his ears right now because he can also remember how he always urged Marco in, begging him to deeper and pulling him close so he can bite and mark him as his.

Marco never told him to not to do it. He never bothered to cover them and Mario loved it. Seeing bite marks he left, all open for world to see, made it for him. He constantly fought an erection and some of his friends noticed it too but they didn't ask, just smirked knowingly at him, making him blush in embarrassment. Marco never hid his own amusement.

And now, they were all he had left. Memories, and some of them were fading, they were escaping between his fingers.

His call ends again, and Mario wonders if Marco left home without his phone. But he can't give up, he has to try and apologize.  
They say foolishness is doing the same thing and expecting another result. 

So he calls him again.

**

Marco is amazed. Twenty six phone calls and fifteen unread messages and Mario hasn't stopped yet. He doesn’t know if he's pleased or just plain annoyed that Mario can't seem to get that he doesn’t want to talk to him hear from him or do anything involved him. He doessn’t have much chance about that but he tries. Mario is a professional stalker, and definitely a stubborn one.

He knows Mario is not sorry enough to make it up for his words because obviously Marco never meant much to him. As he did to Marco.

He knows Bayern is holding their stupid ass gala tonight and he knows Mario will bring her girlfriend and hold her waist and lean into her to whisper in her ears and even though he made plans with Kevin to watch it together to drown themselves in self pity and bitterness, he realises he isn’t in mood to deal with their happiness, he hasn’t got enough strength in him to taunt them.

 

He still can’t believe Mario left him, without an excuse other than “wanting to pursue a higher career”. He think those words will haunt him in his dreams until he finds himself another Mario but he doesn’t want to have another Mario, he doesn’t even want a better version of him, with all negative parts, with smelly feet and over protectiveness and horrible music taste.

“Career my ass,” he says out loud. “You had me.”

**

“FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID WHORE!” he shouts as he opens the door, ready to break the vase on that person who dared to interrupt his forty eighth call to Marco.

He was so close. 

He freezes. He suddenly questions his life choices, because he is staring at his coach and his coach is staring at him with his eyes slightly unfocused as if wondering if he is at the right door.

“Shit,” Mario mutters, a lot quieter than his last few words.

Pep clears his throat, “I see you are a little on edge today.”

He shifts awkwardly, he doesn’t know what to say. What does one do when after you call your superior a whore? “Oh yeah, you could say that,” he agrees, face burning with embarrassment.

“Happens to everyone,” Pep chirps. “May I come in?”

Mario nods absentmindedly, sparing a glance at his phone. He wants to take it with him and continue calling Marco without Pep noticing but he isn’t sure if he can do it right in front of his careful eyes.

“Aren’t you going to come Mario?” Pep calls and Mario curses under his breath, leaving his phone behind.

**

Finally Mario stops calling. He waits for another five minutes for another call but it never comes.

He was going to take the fiftieth call.


	4. Chapter 4

Marco had many bad days in his life, because of many reasons. He argued with his friends, with his family, he flopped at school, he got bullied because of his sexual orientation, his grandparents passed away, his boyfriend took advantage of his drunken state and these sucked but he managed, his heart was a whole and his pride was still there.

It was Mario who broke his heart for the first time. He still feels a sting in his heart when he thinks about it. It was a stupid thing, nothing he would ever think twice about if it were anyone else but it didn’t matter to Marco, all he could think was that Mario didn’t give a shit about him. 

It was his first day at Dortmund. They were both extremely excited that they were going to be together all the time and fight for the same team. From the start of the day they were inseparable, Mario clutching by his side to introduce him to everyone he knew and show his way around. It was amusing to everyone that they were already practically going to the loo together.

When they were finished with the training, Marco was already making plans with Mario, who suddenly disappeared. He didn’t think it over and took a shower in a perfectly happy mood. When he was out, he noticed Mario was nowhere to be seen, as were his belongings. Some of his new teammates noticed his confusion and exchanged worried glances. No one commented on Mario’s sudden departure though, even if they knew where the hell he went and Marco didn’t ask.

Mats, his savoir, asked him to come to lunch to his house with the rest of the team.

Marco never asked where Mario went that day and he never acted coldly towards him about this matter but he never forgot.

***

The second time his heart was broken, it was Mario again. Their affair was going on for quite a time already and the sex was just getting better as they were becoming more familiar with each other’s bodies. 

He remembers the words they exchanged in the bed that night. he remembers the way Mario trembled in his arms telling him over and over that he was amazing, and quiet ‘I love you’s whispered in his ear, the meaning of his words so vague but it didn’t matter to Marco because Mario loved him and his mind was clouded with his orgasm and he was so certain that nothing could ruin whatever was going between them.

He was ready to admit his not-so-totally sexual attraction to Mario. “Mario...” he started but Mario put a finger on his lips. “Not now Marco,” he whispered, biting his lips. Marco was a little discouraged but he was determined not to let anything stop him this time.

He just nodded and decided to wait until morning and kissed Mario on the lips for the last time before drifting off to sleep.  
In the morning, he smiled at the sleeping Mario and got up to open the door for newspaper and bread. The first thing he saw was Mario kissing a blonde girl in front of an unfamiliar house.

They didn’t say anything to each other that night, just a rough fucking that gave no sensual pleasure to either of them.

***

The third time was the worst. It was the worst day he ever experienced by far, and it’s still accurate, even it’s been over a year since this day and the year he left behind was the most difficult year for him.

His doorbell rang and Marco jumped off his sofa and practically ran to the door to welcome his sunshine. When he opened the door he didn’t notice the look on Mario because he was blinded by his very existence and he just took his hand in his hands and pulled him in.

“Mom sent lunch for us, she is still complaining about our eating habits and she says hello to you and...”

He went on and on, never realising Mario didn’t utter a word since he came in and he was watching him with a pained expression on his face.

Marco stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong, sunny?” frowning, obviously worried about his friend.

“I’m sorry Marco,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands. Marco could basically feel his heart stiffen in his chest. 

“Tell me what happened Mario,” he said, his voice colder than he anticipated.

“I’m leaving,” he said finally. At first Marco thought Mario was talking about him, that he was finally feeling guilty over cheating on Ann. And he could deal with that. He could deal with being just friends with Mario even if it would tear his heart apart.

“Alright,” he said, voice cracking. Mario’s head shot up, shock written all over his face.

“What are you saying Marco?”

“It’s alright that you leave. You can never delay it forever,” he said with more courage than he felt.

Realisation dawned on Mario’s face and hurt followed it, and Marco even let himself believe that it was because Mario wanted him to fight for him. 

“You misunderstood.” Mario’s face was positively green and Marco was sure he looked quite the same, his gut clenching so violently, it made him want to puke that he had to hug himself to restrain from falling to the ground.

“I’m leaving Dortmund,” Mario said, looking right at his eyes like it was a show of respect, as if he owed Marco to say this to face to face, like it would make it any better, any easier.

Marco stared at him blankly for a long time, unable to focus on anything, his thoughts running freely around his head and it made him dizzy that Mario’s figure blurred and his voice sounded so distant.

But when Mario touched his cheek to get his attention, he came to himself and held his hand up to stop Mario from getting closer.

“I’d like you to leave,” he said, voice lacking any kind of emotion.

Mario just obeyed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while listening to weird songs which I will never confess, so I just hope this isn't as bad as it can be.

Kevin is a good friend. Kevin is reliable, you know he will keep your secret if it doesn’t thrathen someone’s life. He is supportive and not so objective, you’re right and did nothing wrong if you are his friend. That’s what he says when there is other people around.

 

(Then he curses you and wishes you’d lose your balls because you are an asshole who is ridiculously insensitive.)

 

Kevin never leaves him waiting when they meet, he always brings food and drinks when he comes to Marco’s home. He doesn’t try to get Marco talk while they run in morning trainings. Kevin is not a curious person, he usually doesn’t ask what’s wrong with you unless he thinks it’s what you need

 

(He never says anything if you’re just going to whine, because no matter what, Kevin is not very patient either.)

 

Marco Reus likes him very much so. But tonight he just doesn’t want to see him because he’s going to question him. He doesnt want to tell him about their conversation because that will only make he things worse between Mario and Kevin. Marco doesn’t fancy being responsible of too hard tackles during national team trainings.

 

(Even though Mario apparently doesn’t realise that.)

 

16:38 “Do you mind if we don’t meet up today? I’m not really in mood to watch their shit.”

 

16:46 “Yeah I do mind. In fact I mind so much that I’m coming early. Just try to stop me.”

 

16:47 “I’m not exaggerating. I serıously cant take it today.”

 

Marco is furious because Kevin is a nosy little shit with no talent of empathy.

 

16:52 “If you really mean it...”

 

Now Marco fells guilty because Kevin is actually the most glorious person in the world.

 

16:54 “Yeah, mate. Thanks for understanding.”

 

**

 

Marco gets ready for bed because he is done for the day. There is nothing out there to make him move his ass. He is so determined not to let anything bother him fort he rest of the day.

 

His doorbell rings about ten minutes later and he knows who it is and he wonders if Kevin will leave him alone if he wont open the door. He decides to try it but Kevin is also very stubborn and he’s found a very annoying rhythm that gets to Marco’s nerves.

 

“What the fuck do you want Kevin?” he yells as he tears the door open. Kevin slips inside without looking worried about Marco’s outburst and he holds his arm up to show him tequila. And even though Marco is just a little bit tempted to see his beloved, he doesn’t let Kevin to see his hesitation.

 

“I thought I was clear enough. Didn’t it occur to you that maybe I would need some time alone?” he continues screaming and fuck, it’s really good to let his nerves get the better of him. Kevin just raises an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitches at Marco’s red face and outstretched hand. He doesn’t say a word as he slips into kitchen and starts looking for shot glasses. Marco doens’t see why they would need 15 glasses but doesn’t object.

 

“I’d suggest you to wear something other than that thing on you. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you like that. I know I wouldn’t.”

 

Marco looks down on his pajamas but doesn’t actually see what’s wrong with them. Mario gave him after they went to their first Justin Bieber concert. He expresses his thoughts and that finally gets a reaction out of Kevin which isn’t annoying know it all look.

 

“It’s what is wrong with your pajama Marco. Anything Mario got you is bloody ridiculous and this,” he stresses. “tops the disgrace of all. Now go get dressed.”

 

**

Marco doesn’t want to admit but Kevin is a genius. He hasn’t known he needed a few hours spent with his closest friends just laughing at that isn’t even remotely funny. He won’t say alcohol doesn’t help.

 

He sighs in irritation as Mario calls one more time but this time he isn’t picking up because he is having a good time and he doesn’t want Mario to ruin it. Everyone notices it though and Pierre is the first one to mention it.

 

“Just pick it up Marco. Insistent bugger.” he says tumbling over words and rolling his eyes. Marco hums in annoyance and grabs the phone with a little more force than necessary.

 

“Are you really as stupid as you seem Mario? I thought ignoring your fucking sixty call is enough to convince you that I don’t want to hear your stupid voice or listen your pathetic excuses.” he snaps and there is a second of hesitation after the finishes his speech but he doesn’t let to feel guilty about this.

 

“But I managed!” he exclaims, not sounding insulted at all.

 

Marco grumbles, “Only because my friends were going to chop my head off if they had to hear my phone buzz one more time.”

 

“You could always turn it off.” Mario says matter of factly and Marco doesn’t have anything to say to defend himself so his settles on, “What do you want then sunshine?”

 

Mario pauses before answering. “Are you drunk? At this time?” he asks unbelievingly.

 

“Not any of your business, is it now?” he snorts.

 

“Of course it is my business, you are my friend.”

 

Marco barks out a laugh. “Do you fuck all our friends on a regular basis?” He knows he is being childish but he blames the tequila in his veins.

 

“Yeah, I actually do. I could always arrange you a complete list but I’m afraid it will take some time.”

 

Marco sniggers, “Mario, sunshine, it will be a pleasure to find out your kinks. Are you into the old ones or being a stupid fool is enough for you to get it up.”

 

Marco actually hears him grit his teeth and smirked that he made him annoyed enough. “I just want to apologise.” Mario mutters finally. Something stirs inside Marco and he sighs quietly (or he hopes so).

 

“Go on then.”

 

Apparently, this caught Mario off the guard because he falters. “I don’t know what made me say those things in the morning because I think I was always more eager to bend over.”

 

This is totally unexpected and leaves him muted for a few seconds before he laughs out loud. He wants to say something but nothing comes to his mind and fortunately Mario goes on hurriedly as if he is expecting Marco to hang up on him. “And I’m so fucking sorry because that was probably the worst thing to say when I had the upper hand in an argument , oh fuck, why am I like this? Shit Marco, wait for me for a second please! I don’t know I can’t even form a normal apology that doesn’t sound like I’m actually insulting you because that is the last thing on my mind. I just... want things to be normal between us.” he says, his voice getting more desperate and quiet with each word.

 

“What was normal between us Mario? Are you ready to acknowledge that?” marco asks, his heart beating crazily.

 

“I don’t know.” Mario says truthfully. “I never thought about it you see? We were that way since the beginning and I don’t even know what I think or feel anymore.”

 

Marco feels like he’s punched because he knows exactly how he feels and he has known since the beginning and he is a fool to think that his feelings were returned. “Call me again when you have a better answer.” He says coldly, and he is really impressed with himself that he hasn’t started crying, let alone begging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting reviews is what I live for!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Mario goes to a bar after a national game. Mostly smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is a lot longer than the previous chapters and it contains sexual content. Be warned.

If someone asked me the moment I knew I was going to be fucked, I would immediately answer "Now.". Because no one would dare to ask me a question like this except him and every moment with him just makes me feel that way. 

His gaze passes me uninterestedly and stops when they reach the middle of the floor. The ever changing lights of the club reflects on his face, one moment icy blue and then red. The constant changes and loud dance music makes my heart beat faster than usual and its pressure is almost too much on my chest but maybe it's just because he's close to me. 

Or maybe too distant. 

I don't like the way he watches that kid. He has a ridiculous hairstyle, it is all over place and half of it is sticking to his forehead. His pants are tight around his ass and I have to admit that it is rather spectacular. His hips shakes along with the beat and there is someone else humping him from behind him now. I glance over Marco to see he is still observing the kid, a dangerous lust forming in his eyes.

That is a no from me. I reach towards my glass and gulp it in one go. I wrinkle my nose as the disgusting taste hits my tongue, who the hell ever likes this? I wait almost a minute to get used to the taste in my mouth but it's a lost cause so I order a tequila to ease the pain. God bless tequila. Always there to make everything better.

I shake my head lightly to get in the mood and I'm at my feet in a matter of seconds and I'm already being pulled towards the floor. I look at the man's face and my inner self applauds me. Better than the kid he's currently obsessing over. I throw my arms over the man's shoulder and he has a sly grin plastered on his face and yes, it creates a charismatic wave around him. I've seen better though. 

The man'a got his hands on my ass and he is grinding into me rather than dancing and I am definitely not complaining, my cock is getting harder and blood is rushing to my lower body a little to fast thanks to alcohol running through my veins. 

Suddenly the hands are ripped off of me and I'm inside of far more familiar arms. I feel his hair tickling my forehead as he grabs my hair forcefully and pulls my head back. My neck is placed right on his shoulder and he has a infinitive access to my bare neck and god, he uses it. 

He nibbles on my earlobe as one hand starts to soothe my hair softly and other grabs my dick shamelessly. I am torn between pumping into his hand and pressing my ass to him. Thankfully he makes the decision for me and slides his hand to my stomach to pull me closer to him and I can feel his dick pushing through his jeans and poking me. It's been too much since we've been together and this over eager, rushed moments feels better than anything I've felt for a long time.

I let out a strange noise, something between a scream and a groan. He just bit me shoulder and I wouldn't be so surprised if it broke skin. 

"Out." he chokes out and I nod quickly, following him right behind. It feels like millions of years as we roughly push people aside to make way to ourselves and when we finally reach the exit, I almost throw myself out. The cold air hits me as soon as I step outside and now I feel how hot and sticky I am. I can only look worse.

Marco of course looks as good as ever. His hair is tousled and his cheeks has reddened and I can only hope I am the reason of his heavy breathing. He doesn't give me any time to collect myself before he pushes me to the wall. His lips are on my neck and I hiss as he bites and sucks and hell, it's going to leave a mark. 

I love it. 

I know I'm a mess, I'm whimpering, cursing and groaning, Marco has taken the charge already and I am more than willing to give. Damn, I am willing to give him anything in this moment. His hand is under my shirt and caressing my stomach. He slides it up until his hand is on my chest and for a moment I think he wants to feel my heartbeat but he pinches my nipple and I give a startled gasp. Every cell in my body is responding to his touch and somehow he gets my hands over my head and I'm stuck between his body and the wall. The wall is too hard against me but I can't bring myself to care even though I know it's probably going to tear my tshirt. 

"Turn around." he says and I know it's an order and it turns me on too much that it almost scares me. I realise my knees are too weak to carry me properly, Marco must have been keeping me from falling. He laughs quietly but I still hear it over the club's shitty music. He wraps an arm around my waist and I place my hand on the wall for support. He reaches for my belt and gets it off in a matter of seconds. I suddenly feel anxious that somebody is going to see us and I know I'm not just being paranoid. "Here?" I ask, my breath coming in and out too quickly to be healthy. 

He pushes my pants down and my boxers follow them quickly. He wraps his hand around my cock and my body jerks at the sudden sensation and my face is pressed against the cold wall. I know it's probably not a very attractive view, my mouth is open wide at strong waves coming from both my cock and my ass. "You have a problem?" he asks and his voice is stupidly light with mockery. I want to turn around and slap his grin of his face but he rotates his wrist and his cock slides between my asscheeks without entering at the same time and I know neither of us is going to last long. 

Finally I hear him pant and his movements get quicker. His thumb teases the head of my cock mercilessly and his cock goes on sliding between my ass and I can't believe we haven't done this before. His hands feels almost desperate now and he hides his face into my neck and I press my cheeks to his hair. "I love you so fucking much," I groan as his hand gets even faster and I can feel my orgasm getting closer and I can't let this end before I get this out. 

He laughs but it is humorless. "You always say that," he spats, "but you never mean it."

I frown, trying to get words together. "I've always meant it, idiot."

"Yeah? Have you thought about us then?" He asks trying to sound disinterested. He bites on my shoulder harshly one more time and it's what brings me to orgasm and it rips inside of me, taking all I've got and it feels like I've spent eternity when I finally get back on earth. 

I feel wetness between my ass too, so Marco must have come. I try to turn around but my arms are too weak to even twitch a muscle but luckily Marco seems to be in a better shape. He pulls my boxers and pants up in just one movement without bothering to clean any of our mess and it makes me feel dirty and horny at the same time. 

Awkward silence falls between us and I finally turn to face him. "I meant what I say. I really love you. I know you want to know which way but I can assure you that I'm not fooling myself. I know I have feeling for you. But I'm not ready to give it a name yet." I say quickly, tumbling over only few words which I am proud of. He regards me with a distanced look but I can feel he isn't as mad as before. 

"Is it the gay part?" he asks. His eyes are almost closed and I finally see that he looks too damn tired.

I shake my head. "No, I've come to accept that a long time ago." I pull my hair desperately. "Fuck, Marco, have you even thought about it? Its like you're only considering it emotionally. Have you considered the difficulties?"

As soon as words leave my mouth, I know I made big mistake. His expression falls and he doesn't look even little bit sleepy, has his mask again. "And here I am, thinking you were worth the troubles. Guess it doesn't work both ways."

Before I can even say anything he has turned his back to me and he is gone before I can register what the hell has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from Marco's POV. It's mostly a filler but better than nothing :)

I know I'm being childish. I know it's alright to see matters differently, actually we rarely reacted same way to anything and he actually didn't mean it like I wasn't worth the trouble and he didn't want to try to make it work out with me. But despite the fact that I was all aware of these, it still disappointed me to a point where it hurt. 

It was a stupid move to make anyways. Going to a club together? It's what we did when we were together and fucking. See how it goes this time. A drunken hookup outdoor where everyone could've seen them. Maybe I wanted that. Maybe I wanted some paparazzi to take a photo of us, me grinding into that body, slick with sweat and so damn smooth I couldn't stop touching, devouring. Maybe I wanted everyone to see him getting so hopeless under my hands that he couldn't even support himself even when he had his arms on the wall.

Or maybe that wouldn't be any good. Dad would had a heart attack. 

I wonder he's doing right now. Is he with his girlfriend, pretending to be interested in him or has he broken up with him like I'm still expecting him to? I'm definitely not getting involved with a man who isn't brave enough to let this facade go. This isn't the person I've fallen in love with. My Mario would never cheat on anybody.

My Mario would never have given up on me. 

I pinch myself to get myself together because after all this time, I've finally learned that sulking won't solve anything. 

I want to call him, apologise and demand an explanation. But I am too damn stubborn and prideful to do that. My mom used to say that was going to be the end of me. (And look at that, she's right one more time.)

Maybe I should call her and do exactly what she says. Damn right, how could I never think of that? 

I dial her number and tap my foot on the floor impatiently. She picks it up soon enough, before I start to wander across the room. "Baby?" she says out of breath, she probably run not to miss the call.

"Mom, I got a problem and I need you to fix it."

"I'll do my best." She says but her voice is wary, like she knows exactly what is coming. Which she probably does. 

"It's about Mario." I say softly, I don't want to miss any reaction, they may turn out to be clues to how am I going to deal with this.

She hums noncommittally. 

1\. She isn't surprised. She expected this. She isn't wrong. 

"So we had a fallout as you know. He left and all that. We've been trying not to let this get between us but we are outrageously failing at it. But I want to him back, Mom." I whine, my lower lip turning downwards.

"Oh darling. That's the understatement of the year." She breathes out, just a tiniest bit of irony, hardly noticeable. We weren't subtle at all. Mario do you see that? My mom know you fucked me. "Have you even had a civil conversation about him face to face, not getting angry or offended at everything leaves his mouth? I have a feeling you had a argument lately over this."

2\. She's a psychic. Don't ever try to fool her. 

"Yes but it's not like he is the victim here. He talks rather offensively, I'll have you know. Maybe we wouldn't be in this place if he held his tongue." I defend myself, just because I'll try to soften to him doesn't mean he isn't at fault.

"I can imagine but it's just your pint if view. Try to see how he experiences it. Maybe he is not as mature as you when it comes to certain matters but try to keep in mind he is younger than you and he will have a harder time than you whatever happens."

3\. She is not totally right about this. I'll be wrecked if we break off completely. He'd move on.

"I don't think so."

"What are you talking about?" She says, frown apparent in her voice.

"I don't think he cares enough."

She barks out a laugh. I now know she's going to scold me. "I'm not surprised you are not able to fix a shit you think he doesn't love you as much as you do. He made a mistake and I'm going to admit, I was more than disappointed with him at first, let's say enraged, but you can't hold grudge against someone you love. You can't do this to yourself, let alone other people. What he did was a low blow for you, for everyone and you had every right to be upset with him, to keep yourself away as some form of self defense but you have no right to torment yourself if being away from him hurts you more than what happened."

4\. She is always right. Moms are always right. (And they want the best for you, so love them and show it at every chance you get.) 

I stay silent for a little while and I can picture her moving the seats to the right place like it's happening in front of me that it squeezes my heart so hard that I put a hand over my chest to ease the overwhelming sense of being loved. 

"Thank you." I manage finally and my mom laughs quietly but so warmly that I close my eyes and let it echo in my head for a few seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'd really really really appreciate it if you reviewed. It doesn't give you much courage to write when you don't get any criticism, positive or negative. It takes a little time but means much more than that.


	8. Chapter 8

I stare at the holiest piece of clothing blessed the earth. I can feel the buzz, the synergy that radiates from it. It's making the hairs on my body raise, getting me more sensitive if it's even possible anymore. Even the warm air makes me shudder and I'm surprised that my dick hasn't fallen of yet, it has to have some limits.

It's visible, black against silvery white, one patch on the front, one on the back. 

Meeting halfway. Mini Marcos meeting mini Marios. 

This boxer is sexiest thing on earth. And if I know Marco at all, he will stop being a whiny cocksucker as soon as I send the pic. He is going go fly all the way to Munich, a dildo in his ass stretching him out for the real event. He is going to have such a hard time hiding his erection but he will bear it holding onto the thought of me filling him up completely, pelvis hitting buttocks with every thrust. 

That's just my fantasies unfortunately. The real Marco would send me vagina pic. If we were getting along well. Now he would probably ignore me or text me I shouldn't have wasted that much cum when it could have been inside of my girlfriend. Which is a problem I have to handle immediately. 

Just not now. 

I wrap my hand around my dick and I hiss, a sensation too hard compared to my previous masturbations over the years. I search for the lube with my other hand blindly, opening it easily thanks to years of practice. I give my dick a few more apologetic tugs, you'll have to do it in your own. 

I take handful of lube with my two fingers and I draw my legs close until my knees almost hits the sheets. My dick get squeezed between my leg and stomach, for a second I think I can come from this. I'm getting sweaty too quickly and I'm almost scared it'll be over soon because this is too good to go to waste. 

I tease my opening with one finger first, lube getting all over my ass but I can't give a single fuck. I won't stop it even Arjen walks in right now, he could watch me get off for all I care and I wouldn't do anything to stop him. 

Tip of my finger gets in, fuck fuck fuck, too damn good that I let out a high pitched moan. I close my eyes and ignore the burn in my inner thighs and pretend this is Marco. His finger is pushing at my asshole, circling around it, making me feel my heartbeat there. I almost believe it, oh god I want to believe it but it's impossible when you got the real thing once. 

Once I get used to one finger, I squeeze then second one next to the first. This time it burns a bit but not enough for me to stop or even pause. 

(He is kissing my collarbone, teeth grazing skin barely, sending shivers all over my body. He is sucking a bruise on my neck now and I throw my head back to make it easier.)

Third finger goes in and I don't even bring myself to care that I will not be able to run straight for two weeks if I don't keep it slow. I rotate my fingers slowly, another loud moan leaving my mouth. I want to reach my prostate but the angle is awkward and Marco is too good at this for me to bother to learn how to. 

But I try, I wiggle my fingers as much as I can and there it is. Pleasure shuts through me and I'm getting desperate to feel it again.

I'm high on pleasure and deep down I know this is the stupidest idea but I take the chance. I stand up abruptly, ravaging my wardrobe to find the dildos. I grab the thickest one without hesitation and throw myself back at the bed again, not losing any time before I press the tip to my entrance. I thrust it deep, too quickly and fuck, let's forget two weeks, I'm not going to sit normally for a month. 

I wipe my hand on the sheets, taking my phone and opening whatsapp, and I take a picture of my dick, just the smallest hint of dildo peeking between my thighs and send it to Marco without letting myself think about it and add, "Wish you were here to see what's in my ass. Almost as good as you."

I'm so not going to wait for him to reply. I begin to fuck myself harshly, panting every time it hits my prostate. 

(He is digging his fingers to my hips and I can feel his need to have me only for his own through the desperate clutches.)

My phone vibrates, I jump in shock, It nearly slips all the way out before I steady it. I turn my head to read the message. 

"You know it will never get even close to me. Now, show me."

I grin despite myself and take a quick shot of dildo buried in my ass almost completely. "Barely prepared myself. I will have to think about you every time I move."

"Don't you already? I'm wounded. Take it off and let me see your asshole."

I groan loudly, his order a lot more arousing than the fake penis in my ass. I do as he says, as fast as I can so he can see it loose.

"Fuckfucjfuxj mario do you know what youre doing to me?"

I laugh breathily, this is going much better than I expected. I show the plastic in my hole again and this time I press for the video. I let my moans out, so he can hear me clearly and I'm moving it so slowly so Marco can see every movement.

I don't get a reply for a minute and if i was in control of my body now, I would've stopped fucking myself to cry my eyes out because I'm a fucking idiot who taught this was an acceptable idea. Horrendous. 

My thoughts are cut when my phone rings. I pick it up instantly when Marco's name pops up. I put him on speaker and choke out "Yeah?"

"Do you know how much trouble you put me into?" he whisper yells but his tone is thick with lust. I hear door closing and smirk to myself. "Team meetings are not the best place to have a hard on."

I whimper, his voice carving into my skin, his passion burning my flesh. The idea of him getting distracted, best kind of distractions, because of me when he should've focused to beat me, make my dick throb even harder. "Keep talking. Just fucking keep talking. I'm so close."

He sucks in a breath. "I had to get out in the middle of it. I haven't listened to anything before that anyways. How could I when there was a sight of you with a dick inside you?"

"I wish you were here Marco. Shit! I didn't..." another hit right at my prostate and two moans "Didn't even touch myself."

"Dreamed it was me huh?" He says cockily but I can't be bothered when his guess hits the target. 

"Fuck yeah. Who else would it be?" I. Am. So. Fuckin. Close.

Marco groans and I know he is wanking too and somewhere near him his teammates are discussing strategies and here he is listening me getting off. "You won't have to wait too long. I promise."

Between all of sensations, emotions, words, this is what makes my world explode, stars shining behind my eyelids. When I come down I can't even twitch a finger, let alone take the dildo out. Now that I'm finished, I can feel the pain with pleasure and I can only imagine it will get worse. 

"You came?" I ask, my voice so low that it's barely audible. 

He doesn't say anything at first but I can hear him breathe. "How am I gonna clean this mess up?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest smut I've written, I hope I didn't fuck it up.


End file.
